


Americanization: The Musical

by emilkay



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-09 01:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilkay/pseuds/emilkay
Summary: The kids of Spring Awakening have all just started freshman year of high school and are looking forward to everything that will change in their lives now that they are free to do as they wish.Les Amis of Les Mis are making plans for their lives after they graduate in the spring as they put all their work into  maintaining the most controversial club at the school.The characters of Great Comet are doing their best to live their rich and party filled lives while making it through school alive with all the drama that is going down.These three groups of people all attend the same high school in America (despite none of them being American) and hardly interact with each other, but the school system relies on them all being there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wendla reconnects with her long lost friends, Marius meets what he hopes to be his future wife, and Mary makes her first real human connection.

Wendla couldn’t stop staring at him. She was sure it was Melchior. It had to be him, it wasn’t a very common name to have, but so much about him had changed that she could hardly believe that this was the same boy she played pirates with all those years ago. This new Melchior was tall and muscular and could lead the group of freshmen better than their LINK crew leaders could. Wendla was enthralled to him. Then there was the boy next to him, she remembered Mortiz fondly as well, all though certainly not as fondly as Martha remembered him. Now he looks frazzled and sad. There wasn’t much to make of Moritz, but that only lead Wendla to find his best friend even more attractive. Melchior had a new sort of swagger and an amazing pair of biceps under his tight t-shirt. She wished she wasn’t thinking like this, high school wasn’t supposed to change her or the way she thought of men, and yet it was. She was so attracted to Melchior she couldn't believe it. Her friends would love to hear all about this. Maybe everyone was right, that high school is when things change for you. She could imagine her and Melchior being together, not sexually, Wendla wasn't ready for that, but she could feel his soft hand in hers and his light lips touching hers. 

She pulled herself out of her brain, she couldn't just think about people like that when they didn't know about it. And they didn't know about her. She needed to talk to Melchior again before she thought of him at all.

The LINK leaders in her orientation group were both of a gender she couldn’t identify. They had introduced themselves as Cosette and Jehan and now that were saying the first thing Wendla was excited to hear from them, that the orientation was over and they were free to leave the school and that they were excited to see the next class of students at the first day of school the next day.

Wendla grabbed her backpack and walked over to Melchior before he had a chance to leave without her talking to him.

“Melchior?”

Melchior looked right at her. It was a look of admiration, one Wendla rarely felt directed at her. But it was also a look of confusion.

She was disapointed to know he didn't remember what she looked like, though she had change a lot since she last saw him. “It’s Wendla, remember?” She said. Melchior’s face exploded with emotion.

“Wendla! I didn’t recognize you, you look so different.” Wendla’s feeling of glee for the way Melchior had been looking at her disappeared as she managed to keep a smile on her face. Of course he didn’t recognize her. She wasn’t the same person she was in elementary school. Along with the disappearance of her uncontrolled hair and frilly dresses, Wendla now had an unfortunate development on her chest. And that was all men like Melchior cared about nowadays.

“Hello, Moritz,” Wendla said. It was shallow she was only excited to see Melchior, she wanted him to feel loved to. Especially because of the way he looked. He looked hollow and a million times worse than he was back then. When he said hello back Wendla could hardly hear it.

“What have you been doing?” Wendla and Melchior walked as they talked, and what a wonderful conversation it was! Once they caught up on everything that had happened in the three years since fifth grade ended, she got to have an honest to god conversation about everything that interested her. Melchior must not have been so intrigued by her chest earlier because now she found out he was an absolute feminist, and one so respectful that when she wanted to fake her own being an intellectual, he let her talk and even pretended to be interested and impressed by what she was saying. It was an amazing experience to have a conversation like that. Moritz walked next to them as the meandered the hallway on their winding path to the front door, anything to make the conversation last longer.

They said their goodbyes at the front door. Melchior and Moritz left, they were walking to Melchior’s house together. It must be nice to live so close, and Wendla stayed in the front foyer for a moment as she called her mom to pick her up. 

The entrance of her new high school was grand, and she had four more years to appreciate it. She couldn’t believe she was already in high school! And she got to reconnect with her old friends, there was so much for her to do in the future. She had her plans to ace every class and get involved in the charitable clubs. She would have true freedom for the first time in her life. And it started with her burning desire to get to know Melchior Gabor.

 

Marius and Courfeyrac had class schedules that were complete opposites from each other. This had to do with the fact that Courf had already embraced senioritis before he had even applied for college so he was taking two arts classes and had a free period. Marius saw no point in giving up, and had filled his schedule with Honors and Advanced Placement classes. It would be hard, but what else was he supposed to do? And what was he supposed to do without Courfeyrac? Sure, he had other friends in some of his classes but he didn’t have anyone like Courf other than Courf himself. No one else could tease him and touch him and rarely make him uncomfortable. Although there were time that Courf could make Marius uncomfortable without doing anything bad or abnormal. Like right now, when he yelled out “Cosette!”

The Cosette he was talking to was a tall woman with beautiful hair and big teeth and who walked with the confidence of a god and the glory of a thousand suns. Marius felt these thoughts run through his head and instantly regretted it. He can’t just see a random lady and start describing everything he loves about her, its creepy and it’s objectifying women. Marius knows the verbal whipping he would receive if Enjolras ever heard about the things he thought when he first saw Cosette.  
So he pushed them aside, he needed to get to know her before he could be calling her beautiful. 

And he would be getting to know her very soon, in the time that he had been thinking these things she had made her way over to Marius and Courfeyrac and had already hugged and caught up with her friend.

“Marius,” Courf said. “You with us?”

Marius snapped back into reality. “Yes,” he said. He hoped they didn’t know how not with them he had been just a moment earlier.

“This is Cosette, we met over the summer.”

Cosette reached out her hand to shake Marius’ as she said hello. Her voice was deep and smooth and her big teeth were beautiful when she smiled. Marius smiled back, and then he was pushed out of the conversation. He didn’t mind, most conversations went on better when he wasn’t a part of them.

“You should join ABC!” Courf was yelling all the sudden, he does that sometimes, and it always puts an accidental amount of attention on Marius, something he does not appreciate.

“What's that?” Cosette asks.

“It’s a club, a social justice thing. Marius and I are a part of it, you should come. It’s after school on Wednesdays.” Courf will always take the opportunity to promote the club he co runs.

“Yeah, I’ll join,” Cosette said. The idea of Marius needing to see her once a week made his heart flutter and his hand shake. “You know what, I gotta go to lunch, but I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“Yeah! See you then!” Marius suddenly realized he was the one yelling, not Courfeyrac. It embarrassed him to know he was that much of a hypocrite. Cosette hugged Courf goodbye and gave Marius an awkward little wave which he returned, but with about ten times the awkward. When she was good and out of site Courf turned to his friend.

“So, you like her don’t you?”

Marius knew what he was saying, but it was so much easier to pretend he didn’t. “I don’t know, I don’t really know her, do I?”

“Yeah, okay.” Courf made a face that let Marius know just how much he knew he was lying about. “Well, have fun sitting next to her at the next meeting!” Courf yelled this as he walked away. He didn’t offer Marius a explanation of why he was walking away, but he never did. Now Marius was stuck in the lunch room with no one he knew around him, and the thought of Cosette fresh in his mind.

 

Moritz didn’t understand why Melchior allowed him to cling onto him for all these years. They were friends of convenience back in elementary school and now he still got to sit at the table with the most popular guys in his grade. Melchior was loved by all the girls, as was Hanschen, and Otto tagged along. But Otto was a jock so his tagging along was much more meaningful and logical than Moritz’. Moritz was scared. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but the first day of highschool was already making him feel sick to his stomach. Melchior ruled this day like he was born to be a high schooler, which Moritz assumed everyone else was, and he was just an outlier.

When it came to the discovery of girls Moritz was far behind and it was embarrassing. Melchior and Hanschen had both had many a girlfriend back in middle school, and they all seemed like serious relationships. None of them lasted, though, and now Melchior had his eyes set on Wendla Bergmann. Wendla was a perfect girl in Moritz’ eyes. They spent lots of time together at temple. She was such an innocent and kind girl, she dedicated all her time to charity work and smiled brightly at all times. Moritz couldn’t imagine anyone having the energy to be happy all the time, but Wendla did and it was amazing. These are the things Moritz loves about her, they are not the things that Melchior finds interesting in general or what he likes about her at all.

“God, Hanchen! Her body is so perfect. And she is so innocent. I’m sure she has never been with anyone before.”

“You should go for it,” Hanschen replied. 

“Totally,” Otto added on, he was unable to say things that contradicted what the conversation was about.

“What do you think, Moritz?” Moritz had heard this whole conversation but still felt like he wasn’t there at all. He was only half way through his first day and already he felt panicky and hot. This happened sometimes, both him and Melchior knew there was no way to stop it.

“You good?” Melchior asked, true sympathy came out of his mouth when he said this.

Moritz shook his head. He struggled to gather his things and to throw away his lunch. He was walking was faster then he should be but still it felt like he wasn’t getting anywhere. He didn’t know why this had to happen right now. He needed to leave. He would meet his teachers tomorrow, right now he needed to get out of this school. 

He could imagine what they were saying about him “What’s his problem?” Otto or Hanschen would ask. “I don’t know, he just gets crazy like this sometimes,” would be Melchior explanation. Then the conversation would move on to more important things like how attractive they all found Wendla’s perfect body and how they were so ready for high school while Moritz couldn't even make it through the first day without breaking down. He was just disappointing himself.

 

The seating chart put Mary right next to a girl named Sonya Rostova. She knew next to nothing about this girl, she had never seen her around before and she had no reason to talk to her. Sonya did have a reason to talk to her, so she did.

“Is your last name Bolkonsky?” Sonya already knew the truth to this question, she had seen the seating chart too, but she didn’t want to come off too aggressively to a beautiful girl who she had never talked to before.

“Yes,” Mary replied. She didn’t know why this was important.

“Is Andrey your brother?” Then Mary understood, everyone wanted Andrey, she was sure this was just another girl who was dreaming after her brother, why else would anyone talk to her?

“Yes, he is,” Mary said. She spoke shortly and tried not to come off as boring or mean, but she was sure she did anyway.

“No way! My cousin’s dating him!” This was also information Sonya had pulled together long before this conversation had happened, but acting like it wasn’t was sure to brighten the sullen girl up a little bit.

Mary looked at Sonya. “You look nothing like Natasha.”

“I know,”

Mary said nothing. She wished nothing more but for this to be the end of their conversation. Sonya tried to get more information about Andrey out of her but she replied exclusively in short answers that provided no useful information. Class began and that was the end of that.

Only it wasn’t, because before Mary could leave the room Sonya asked her “Who are you eating lunch with?”

Mary knew if she lied and told her she was eating with friends that Sonya would leave her alone, but that was dishonest, and she had been so rude to her earlier. Maybe she could try to make a friendship come of this, she had never had a true friend before. And that was her fault.

“No one,” She said.

“Then come eat with me and Natasha, we’ll be at the coffee shop.”

Mary never leaves campus for lunch, but the other option was sitting by herself and she knew Natasha a little bit, it would be nice to be friends with her brother’s girlfriend. and her brother's girlfriend's cousin.

“Okay.” And she left campus with a girl she hardly knew. She never did this, and yet it was happening. And she was going to enjoy herself. She was going to force herself to enjoy herself

 

Wendla loved her friends more than anything in the world, and she had promised all of them she would never let a boy get in between her and her friend group. That didn’t mean, of course, that discussion of boys was off limits, Martha was always talking about her giant crush on Moritz and Ernst could never shut up about how dreamy he found Hanschen to be. But Wendla didn’t expect for the whole table to explode in noise when she first mentioned Melchior’s name.

“Melchior!” Thea was screaming. “He’s stupid. He’s a little bitch. All he talks about is hating God and loving women. It’s gross.”

“Come on, Thea.” Anna was saying, “He’s hot, it’s just his attitude that sucks. Like, a hookup with him would be great, just don’t date him.”

“You guys are both wrong, he’s not hot at all, and sometimes he says smart things,” Martha added to the conversation.

All things things were said over top of each other. Wendla looked at Ernst who was sitting next to her. He had nothing to add. Once the girls had quieted down Wendla said what she had been saving.

“I liked him then, why should I not go for it?” Wendla had never planned on dating anyone, she knew her mom wouldn’t allow it, but this seemed special. And it wasn’t like it would actually happen. 

“I can’t believe Wendla wants to be with someone,” Thea said. She was the most experienced in their whole friend group, and Wendla was always expected to be the last of them to make a move with a guy. And yet here she was, lusting after the most in demand man in the school. They all laughed and the conversation went on. If they thought Wendla had a chance there would have been a plan to make, but they all knew it would never happen. Not with Wendla and Melchior. Melchior didn't like girls like Wendla.

“I can’t believe we’re really high schoolers,” Anna said.

“I know, I get to start new,” Martha added. They all knew just how much Martha deserved a fresh start.

 

Natasha had bailed on her cousin the moment Andrey and his friend suggested a more appealing option for lunch. Now Mary was eating with a girl she didn’t know in a coffee shop she had never been to. It was awkward, Mary was plain and boring and Sonya was rich and well dressed and nothing like the good Christian girl Mary was expected to be. 

“Do you read?” That was the first question Sonya asked that Mary wanted to talk about. So they did. Somehow these two girls had much in common. They went on all lunch discussing books they liked. The two of them both loved romance novels and happily talked about book recommendations and more. As the conversation moved they found more in common. They both tried to be a simple person in complex times. For the first time in her life, Mary didn’t feel uncomfortable when the talk she was having started revolving around family life.

“I have to do everything for my father, he’s a little crazy but won’t go to the doctor.” Mary didn’t know why she was telling a complete stranger this, she usually wanted to keep it all to herself. She saw the look of concern on Sonya’s perfect face. “Not that it’s awful or anything, it’s just time consuming.”

“Well, I’m always looking after my cousin. She does so much stuff and it’s a little dangerous. But as long as Marya doesn’t find out we’re good.” Sonya wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone, and she didn’t want Mary to know how weird she thought it was that a seventeen year old was responsible for her father's health.

Lunch ended all too quickly for Mary, she had been having so much fun with Sonya. They walked back to school together and went their separate ways for fourth period. When Mary turned away from her new friend the smile refused to drop from her face. But why? She hardly knew Sonya and there was no reason for her to feel this happy after just one meeting with her. She hoped with all her heart she would be able to see her again. There was no reason for her to be feeling this way, but maybe that’s what friendship is. Mary had had friends before, of course, but this was different. But why is it? They had just met and Mary felt like she was in love with Sonya, which is completely ridiculous. Still, the idea of this perfect woman was on her mind for the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first ABC meeting takes place where people meet and reunite, Natasha meets a handsome man named Anatole, and Moritz is feeling a little down.

Enjolras’ pride combined with Combeferre’s intelligence matched with Courfeyrac’s people pleasing personality made an unstoppable team of leaders of the ABC. That wasn’t all it took, though. Enjolras looked around the room. Every single person there he knew was a senior. The club was destined to die next year. Nevertheless, Enjolras lead the club with all the fury in his mind and body.

“Welcome, welcome.” It was 3:45 which meant that school sancient clubs were all starting their meetings. He was in need of order in these otherwise chaotic times. It took awhile for the room to quiet but once it did, he was on a roll. He told everyone to move the tables and create a circle of chairs in the center of the room. The idea was to create equality between both the members and the leaders of the club, but it didn’t work in practice due to the three leaders all sitting next to each other at the front of the room.

“We will start this meeting by going around in a circle and sharing our names, pronouns, grade level, and a social justice issue we are interested in talking about,” Enjolras said.

“Dude, it’s the first meeting. Start it off slowly, why don’t you?” Courfeyrac suggested. The look Enjolras gave him in response could not be easily narrowed down into one emotion, it was a kind combination of annoyance, respect, and impatience. Still, he edited himself for Courfs sake.

“Say your favorite animal,”He amended, “Instead of a social justice topic.”

There were only three people in the room the Enjolras did not know, and there for only three people in the room he payed attention to during introductions.  
Eponine was in extravagant clothing and she talked with her hands. Her favorite animal was a wolf. Cosette was plain looking save for her face, which was always smiling. Her favorite animal was a cat. Grantaire was an ugly man who took up too much space in the room. He didn’t have a favorite animal, he said. This was the first thing that annoyed him about Grantaire. The second thing was that he never stopped talking.

This was the hardest part of the meeting. Enjolras knew it would be boring before it started, they had to do loads of housekeeping before they had a tiny conversation about topics of social justice they wanted to talk about at future meetings. This was the plan, he was going to do it, and no one would complain because everyone else was expecting it too. But apparently this was not expected by Grantaire, who couldn’t stop making chatter with Eponine and Jehan, the people he was wedged in between.

When the meeting had ended Enjolras approached Grantaire with the intent to belittle him for being so disrespectful to him during the meeting. Grantaire saw him approaching and spoke before Enjolras could even have the chance.

“Great meeting, I’m really glad I came.” Enjolras froze. He noticed how he changed his tone completely when addressing him rather then when he was whispering to Eponine and Jehan. The desire to be rude left his head. Enjolras put out his hand to be shook and spoke quietly.

“Thank you for coming,” Enjolras said. “Why did you come?” He hoped it didn’t sound rude, that was no longer his intent.

“Jehan told me to,” Grantaire said as he shook Enjolras’ hand.

Enjolras looked at Jehan, they were sitting on their phone and didn’t bother to look up when their name was said. “And how do you two know each other?”

“I met him at a party,” Jehan suddenly chipped in. They had this incredible ability of never being present in the moment, and yet always knowing what was going on. Maybe it was all the drugs they did that fried their brain. Enjolras suddenly realized that if Jehan had met Grantaire at a party than he was probably into the same stuff that Jehan was into. This both disappointed and surprised Enjolras, though it shouldn’t have done the latter, if he had taken into account the drug rug that Grantaire was wearing it would have been obvious.

Grantaire was packing up his stuff and trying to get the attention of Eponine, who was across the room talking to the other new girl, Cosette.

“I’m Enjolras, by the way.” He said.

“I know,” Grantaire replied. Then he got up from his seat and had to drag Eponine out of the room to get her to stop talking to Cosette. Enjolras thought it was a weird was to end a conversation, but then again, he hadn’t had a normal conversation his whole life. It just wasn’t something he could do.

He thought the first meeting went well. His last year of highschool would be a doozy and that would only truly start once the most important thing in his life, this club, was in full swing.

 

As much as she loved her cousin, Natasha had eaten enough meals with her throughout her life that she didn’t think it would be all that bad if she skipped lunch with her so she could meet her boyfriends friends. All she wanted was for Andrey to like every bit of her, and that included him liking how she acted around the people he was closest with. Andrey had needed to brief Natasha on all of his friends before she went to meet them. She knew about Pierre, the fat one who never did anything fun and was a major buzzkill, but still managed to maintain his title as Andrey’s best friend. Natasha had known Pierre for years, much longer than she had known Andrey, and he was the way the couple first met. Then there was Helene. She was sultry and beautiful and had broken up with Pierre the last spring after cheating on him with Dolokhov. Natasha was forbidden to talk about that. The friend group had spent the summer pretending nothing happened and now everything was back to normal as long and no one brought it up. Dolokhov was sitting around with the rest of them but rarely did anything the rest could make note of. He could throw a ball like no ones business and often disappeared over the weekend to go on hunting trips. They didn’t sound like the people that Natasha usually hung out with but that was because none of them were Sonya, they only person she called her friend.

When Natasha and Andrey strolled up to the group there was one person Natasha couldn’t identify from the briefing her boyfriend had given her. He was skinny and blond and unbelievably attractive.

“Oh! Anatole.” Andrey turned to Natasha, “I forgot to tell you about Anatole.”

“No need to.” Anatole reached out for Natasha’s hand. She reached out to shake his, but instead he grabbed it and put his lips to her skin. He placed a kiss on the back of her hand. Natasha was so shocked she let out a little, involuntary “Oh.”

“Let’s head out,” Dolokhov announced. He looked annoyed, Pierre looked sad, and Helene looked close to killing someone if anyone gave her the smallest reason to. Overall, Natasha only saw happiness coming from herself in this group.

As the six of them headed out to the Whole Foods just a block from campus Andrey abandoned Natasha is favor of talking to Pierre. This did not bother her, especially once Anatole decided it was time for him to start making conversation.

“You’re Andrey’s girlfriend,” Anatole stated.

“Yes,” Natasha answered, even though what he had said was far from a question.

“He’s told me you like theatre.” Somehow Anatole knew how to get Natasha going. Once she had started talking she didn’t know how to stop. Until she found out that Anatole knew just as much as her and could hold up his end of the conversation. They talked the whole walk, much to the annoyance of the rest of the people around them. The two people found solace in each other.

On the way back from lunch the conversation had come all the way around and Anatole was telling Natasha just what she wanted to hear.

“You should audition for the spring musical, it isn’t for months but you would be perfect.”

“Would I really?” Natasha asked.

“Of course. I already know I’ll get cast, and it would be amazing to get to spend more time with you.” Anatole’s natural state was that of a flirt, Natasha had learned in her half hour of knowing him. She knew this, and so did everyone else.

“Oi, Anatole, you planning of stealing Andrey’s girl?” Helene was yelling from behind the two conversationalists.

“Never. Not when I could have Andrey himself.” Anatole took a lunge at Andrey, which he skillfully avoided, as if this exact thing had happened before.

“You better back the fuck up, man,” Andrey said.

Then they were laughing and Natasha felt great, but then she felt awful. She had spent all her lunch talking to a guy who wasn’t her boyfriend and now all she could think about as she walked to class was how much she wanted to see him again. It wasn’t fair, or even okay, for her to like Anatole when she had such a perfect man already. But he was all that was on her mind.

 

Moritz was having and awful day. To be fair all his days started and often ended like this, but when he was suddenly obligated to go to school again it made all his emotions ten times worse. The last few days had been so much worse than everyday of his summer. And today was the last straw. He was supposed to be in third period at the moment, but instead he was wondering the tragic residential neighborhood surrounding his new school. He had been warned the high school was a million times worse and harder the middle school, but no one had told him it would also be a million times more depressing. The dirty floors and beaten up text books looked like a physical representation of how he felt about his god awful school.

The day was warm, it was hardly even fall yet, and the leaves were green. The sun was shining and he saw people holding hands and walking their dogs and all around looking happier than Moritz had ever felt in his life. His walk around the neighborhood was only making him sadder. The lot of abandoned houses just south of his school had been torn down and a sign about land development. He read it out of boredom. A whole block of apartments were being built, they were to block the view of downtown that the students could see out the window of the classrooms in the science hallway. It wasn’t important to him, or even something he was supposed to care about. But it was so tragic. He would be part of the last class at his school to have a view.

He didn’t understand why this made him so sad. He could find any worthless piece of information and get himself worked into a fit about it for absolutely no reason. It was stupid and disappointing.

Moritz knew his father would hate him for this. He only hoped that he wouldn’t listen to the phone call telling him that his son had skipped class, but that wasn’t a certainty. He wasn’t scared of his father, he would never hurt him, but he could turn his shoulder on him for as long as he wanted. Perhaps it wasn’t worth it. In fact, it most definitely wasn’t worth it, but there he was. And there was nothing else he could do. At least it felt that way.

“Moritz!” There was a woman’s voice yelling for him. He had gotten so wrapped up in the sign and future building that he forgot he was visible to people around him. He looked around for the source of the voice. He saw a girl running towards him. He didn’t recognize her. And he knew because it would have been hard to forget a girl with a shaved head but hairy legs who ran with a limp and yelled his name as loud as she could despite now being only a few yards away.

Then he recognized her. It was Ilse.

 

Cosette recognized Eponine the moment she entered the room. It had been years and years since she had seen her last but her smile and her mannerisms stayed the same. She still had a toothy grin and she sat with her legs crossed and her elbows resting on her knees. Cosette always knew she would grow up to be beautiful, but this was almost unreasonable. 

She already had two people at her side, one of which was Jehan, the person Cosette had done LINK crew with. She shared a quick hello with them, but Eponine didn’t seem to even register that she was there. It almost hurt, but it was to be expected. Cosette had changed a lot over the years. In more ways than one.

The man who was running the meeting introduced himself as Enjolras and then hardly stopped talking for the next hour of the meeting. He would occasionally let Courf or the other leader talk, a guy who Cosette had learned was named Combeferre, but Enjolras seemed to not respect anyone else's opinions other than those two enough to let anyone else talk. Especially Grantaire, who was immediately shut down as soon as he opened his mouth. 

It was a tough performance to sit through, and Cosette didn’t expect it to be a performance at all, but it did end up feeling that way. Once it was over Cosette had a plan. She was going to remind Eponine of who she was. She made her way to the other woman and said what she said.

“Hi, Eponine.” Eponine looked at her like she was a little weird, but she could also see how polite she was trying to be. “My names Cosette, do you remember me?”  
Eponine seemed weirded out at her. She breathed a small negative response. It made Cosette a little bit glad. She truly was a new person.

“You’re parents were my foster parents for a while. I worked in the motel a lot.” Eponine still looked a little lost, Cosette was sure her parents had done the same thing with plenty of their foster kids. “My name used to be-”

Eponine cut her off before she had the chance to dead name herself.

“Oh, my God. I remember you!” Eponine looked suddenly excited. “Wow. How have you been? How did life turn out for you?”

“I got adopted by my dad. He homeschooled me for a while but I’m here for senior year,” Cosette said. “And I’m a girl now.”

“Yeah. You’re a girl now,” Eponine said. She reached out her arms for a hug, which Cosette reciprocated.

She had always liked Eponine. The problem she had with that home had been with her parents, not with her. It was the home she had the most memories with. Since it was the her last home she was the oldest she had been while in the system. Sometimes she thinks back on those years spent in the Thenardier’s house and wonders if they still take in foster kids, or if the social workers caught onto the abuse and stopped letting them do what they were doing.

“You know, Jehan is having a party this weekend. You should come,” Eponine said.

“Really?” Cosette hardly knew Jehan outside of doing LINK crew with them.

“Absolutely, I’d be happy to have you around,” Jehan said. They were smiling a dopey smile and looked completely settled in.

“It’s a drinking party, you cool with that?” Eponine asked. She was so nice.

“Yeah, I’m totally cool with that,” Cosette said back.

“You want to come, Marius?” This comment from Jehan made Cosette turn around. Marius had been standing just behind her the whole conversation. Now that he was pulled into it he looked as pale as a ghost.

“Yes,” He said, point blank.

“Awesome,” Jehan said. “I’ll DM you my address.”

At that point in time Grantaire made his sweep across the room and practically pulled Eponine out of her conversation with Cosette. The two of them left and Cosette couldn’t be happier. She was going to make friends and be a real high school girl for the first time in her life. It was her dream come true.

 

Sonya’s room was quite the opposite from Natasha’s. Her room was simple and coordinated in terms of making sense of the color scheme. Natasha’s room was filled with her stuff and she put no care into making it look nice, as long as it looked like her. Which it very much did. Messy and colorful. It was also a nice representation of how conversations held out with Natasha felt. Even though the conversation she was having at the time was in Sonya’s simple room, it still felt as colorful as ever.

“I know it’s awful, but he is so hot and kind and he likes all the same things as me,” Natasha was babbling on about her new crush. To Sonya, this was disgusting. “He is very funny and so, so hot. Can I show you a picture?” Natasha was already scrolling through her phone when Sonya started talking.

“You can’t do this. You have a boyfriend.” Sonya had been telling Natasha this for the past five minute of conversation they had been having about Anatole Kuragin.

“Look at him.” Natasha showed her cousin a picture, she either ignored Sonya or was really so wrapped up in her thoughts that she couldn’t hear reason at all.

“What about Andrey?”

“Andrey wont mind. Hell, Anatole nearly kissed him today and her barely blinked an eye.”

“That was probably a joke, this is different. You don’t seriously like him, do you?” Sonya was sick of Natasha’s nonsense, but it never seemed to stop.

“I’m allowed to think he’s hot, as long as I don’t make a move,” Natasha explained.

“But you don’t just think he’s hot, you actually like him.”

“Come on, Sonya, don’t be like that.”

“Like what? Reasonable?” Sonya had reached her limit of Natasha nonsense for one day.

“Don’t you ever like someone you know you can’t have?” Natasha asked.

“No, because I can hold myself back.”

“Don’t you like anyone ever?”

Sonya stayed quiet. A undefinably look of excitement came across Natasha’s face. She lost the ability to speak and everything that came out of her mouth after that came as a scream.

“You do like someone! No way! Who!? Who is he!?” Natasha yelled.

“It’s a girl,” Sonya admitted in a tiny voice.

“No way!” Natasha yelled.

“Please stop yelling,” Sonya requested.

“Who is it?” Natasha asked, her voice returning to a normal level.

“I can’t date her it would be weird.”

“Why?”

“She’s Andrey’s sister.”

Natasha fell silent, and odd thing for her to do.

“You like Mary?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

Natasha stared at Sonya for what felt like forever. It was quiet and there was no sound Natasha could fill the space with.

“Okay,” She finally said. Then she left the room without another word.

That went awful, Sonya thought. How was she supposed to know that Natasha would epically freak out like that? That wasn’t fair at all. Natasha could do whatever she wanted and never see anything wrong with it. She could fully admit to having a crush on someone while she had a boyfriend but the moment Sonya liked someone that Natasha didn’t, she would run off and throw a hissy fit about it. It didn’t matter, Sonya decided. Her business was her business and her feelings for Mary shouldn’t change because Natasha was acting a little cunty. There was nothing she could do about anything Sonya did.

 

It was the timing of the announcement that pissed Dolokhov off the most. He knew there was nothing he could do about the fact that he and Anatole would never be anything more than fuck buddies, but there was nothing worse than getting an amazing blow job from a wonderful man and then instantly have to hear him start talking about the girl he liked. That along with the fact that said girl had a boyfriend the two of them were both friends with. That night was a shitty night for Dolokhov.

 

When Moritz finally recognized Ilse he was already wrapped up in a hug with her. She pulled away from him and looked right in his eyes. She was really beautiful now. He hadn’t seen her since fifth grade promotion over three years ago. She looked much happier than she did back then. Moritz wished she could say the same for him, but no one could.

“I’m so happy to see you,” Ilse said. 

“Me too.” Moritz didn’t feel happy, but he felt like he could be. Her arms were still on his shoulders and his hands were wrapped around her wrists. Its wasn’t intimate, but it made Moritz feel so good.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

Moritz hadn’t thought much of Ilse throughout the entirety of middle school, but now she stood in front of him and all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his time with her.

“I’m going to the bookstore, want to come with?” Ilse dropped her arms and so Moritz had to as well.

“I have class,” Moritz said, as much as he didn’t want to go.

“Then why aren't you there now?” This was a perfectly valid question for Ilse to ask, and it is what convinced Moritz to follow her to the Third Place Books just a few blocks from the school.

Ilse talked a lot. She didn’t mention a thing about her parents of her current school life, but she lead the conversation by talking about books she loved and the art classes she was taking and everything from her childhood that she missed, particularly Moritz.

“Do you still talk to Melchior and Wendla?” She asked. “I haven't seen them in forever.”

“Melchior’s my best friend,” Moritz said. Ilse looked happy, or maybe it was jealousy. “And I talked to Wendla for the first time since fifth grade just a few days ago.”  
“That’s lovely. I wish I still knew them.”

“What school do you go to?” Moritz realised he had never seen Ilse at his school, but he knew her parents weren’t rich enough to send her somewhere private. And if she still lived where she used to then she surely was in the neighborhood to attend the same high school as him.

“Do you want to come to a party with me?” Ilse asked. She was dodging the question, no doubt, but Moritz had never been invited to anything like a party, so he almost didn’t mind. “I don’t know if you like that kind of thing, but my friend Jehan in hosting and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I brought you along.”

Moritz never thought Ilse would grow up into a party animal, but he looked and her now for what she was, she was punk rock and flower crowns, of course she partied.

“I would love to go,” Moritz said. He had high hopes for what was to come between him and Ilse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I'm just writing this to practice my creative writing, but I would love anyone who want to praise what I am doing because I love this story and these characters.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pierre's being a little sad, Melchior's being a little gross, Mary want to spend time with Sonya, and Jehan has a party to plan for.

It was a fact that Pierre had hardly talked to Andrey all summer. He thought he had been kicked out of his group after he blew up at Helene. But somehow when school started up again the whole bunch managed to pretend that nothing had happened. Helene still teased him and poked him just like she had done when they were dating, and Dolokhov still kept his distance, just like he did when he was fucking Helene behind Pierre’s back. It had been a mess of a relationship long before it ended. And somehow his drama with his ex kept him from talking to Andrey all summer. He thought that he was close enough to his best friend that he might tell him something like him having a new girlfriend, but somehow that wasn’t communicated. 

Pierre felt more cheated on when Andrey announced that Natasha and him were dating than when he found out he was actually being cheated on. Andrey knew he liked Natasha, and that he had liked her for years. He liked her more than Helene when he was dating her. He tried to remain calm in the class following what to him was a disaster of a lunch, but once the teacher stopped talking he breached the subject.

“You and Natasha.” That felt like enough to get Andrey talking.

“Yep,” Andrey said back. Apparently it was not enough to get him talking.

“How long has that been a thing?” Pierre asked.

“Since July.” Three months was a long time for Andrey to be dating someone. Usually he disappeared to nowhere for so long that the girls would give up on him.

“Wow.”

“Are you pissed?” Andrey asked.

Pierre wasn’t pissed. He had lost the energy to be pissed recently. He had lost the energy to do anything recently.

“No,” He said. And they worked in silence for the rest of the period.

 

There was nothing enjoyable about sitting right behind Melchior Gabor in third period geometry, Ernst had discovered. He was trapped at the back of the classroom with the worst man at the school just two feet away from him. What was worse was the fact that he couldn’t speak quieter than what others might call yelling whenever having a conversation with the equally gross boys around him. Ernst listened in on everyone of his conversation with Georg, and the things he learned were horrible.

Most of these things were about one wonderful girl named Wendla Bergmann. Ernst couldn’t believe anyone could see her as something other than a innocent girl or a little sister, but Melchior told Georg about everything he loved about her.

“God, I never expected her to turn out like that,” Melchior was saying.

“Oh, yeah. When did all that happen?” Georg added.

“I would tap that at any cost.”

“Fuck, man, wouldn’t we all.”

“You are disgusting.” Ernst butted in.

Melchior looked at Ernst like he had never seen him before in his life.

“How?” Melchior asked. It was a weird question, and one Melchior surely knew the answer to. But he asked it anyways.

“You can’t just say that stuff about a girl you don’t know,” Ernst said.

“I know Wendla. We were best friends once,” Melchior replied.

Ernst knew this was true. He only became friends with her in seventh grade, and Wendla liked him now, he knew.

“You think she’d like it if she knew what you were saying?”

“You’re gonna tell her? I though gay people were sex positive.”

It was easy to say the Ernst was the most sex negative gay person in the world. He probably still held this title when considering every straight person at his school as well, but that didn’t mean he had to let Melchior know this.

“Sex positive doesn’t mean gross positive.” Georg had every right to laugh at what Ernst had just said, and laugh he did. Melchior somehow had the respect to keep quiet at this stupid remark.

“When you see Wendla, tell her what I said about her. I’m sure she’ll like it.” It was horrible to imagine anyone liking being talked about that way behind their backs, and surely Wendla had more sense than to think Melchior really liked her.

But there was something else, Wendla really liked Melchior and Melchior had at least some interest in her. It was a scary thought for Ernst to think that anything might come of that. He had to warn her about him before either of them carried on with anything.

 

It took a whole week of Sonya and Mary sitting next to each other before their teacher made them move seats. They were moved only a table away from each other and still talked during every break the teacher gave. And during passing period, lunch, before school, after school, and often at Sonya’s house. Sonya thought it was the most entertaining thing in the world when she learned that them being separated was the first time Mary had ever gotten in trouble with a teacher. Sonya saw and loved everything about Mary. She was a good girl with perfect grades but no extracurriculars, that made her worry about not being able to get into college. Sonya assured her that an application letter titled “I Spent My Whole Teenage Life Looking After My Crazy Father” was enough to at least get colleges to be interested in her.

Mary had no reason to, but she thought Sonya was perfect. She was beautiful and wild and so, so kind when it came to making sure Mary was alright. She longed for the times she got to rest her head on her shoulder or when Sonya would oh so casually slip her hand into hers and run down the street with Mary trailing after her. She was finding that more and more of her photo app and instagram was being filled with picture of Sonya’s face. It was amazing to really have a friend. It was tragic that she had never had one before.

 

Pierre’s home was filled with open space and dusty furniture and books. Every room except for his own looked like it came out of an 18th century Russian novel. His own room was cluttered and smelly and dark and his least favorite and favorite place in the world. 

When he got home from school after learning about Andrey and Natasha all he could do was slip into his soft pajamas and fall into bed. This worthless feeling was growing in his heart was only propelled by his best friends new relationship. It had started existing months ago, and now it creeped out into the rest of his life. It made his room a mess and his friends assholes and it made everything else fall apart until there was no reason to be alive anymore.

Andrey and Natasha dating didn’t even matter that much. Pierre had been to mopey recently to even notice that they had become a thing, so why did it have any right to get his down this much?

He knew there was something wrong. He knew he wanted to die but he also knew he would never do it. He was almost done with highschool and then he would be in college and everything would be better. He would have better friends and a better home and he might smell a little better. It was all going to happen eventually. It would just take time.

 

Jehan got their stoner personality from their parents. Even when they weren’t high they could still relax immensely and zone out. Joly was convinced it was some sort of disorder or developmental issue, Jehan assured them that with the amount of weed their mom smoked when she was pregnant, that developmental disorder thing wouldn’t be far off at all.

This fact about their parents had its upsides. Like the fact that they were always willing to clear out of the house whenever Jehan wanted to throw a party.

Eponine couldn’t imagine that sort of freedom. As much as her father was an inch away from being an alcoholic, he would practically beat her senseless if he even suspected she had been drinking. It’s lucky she’s good at hiding it and that her father doesn’t actually give a big enough shit about her to make sure she’s sober.

Grantaire thought Jehan’s parents could quite possibly be the coolest people he knew, and the list of people he knew included Jehan and Eponine. The only problem with becoming the party house, was that people always expected you to be the party house.

Jehan, Eponine, and Grantaire were at Jehan’s house preparing for the weekend. Grantaire had got the beer, Eponine had got the snacks, and Jehan was finding everything breakable and locking it in their room. It was a process, and one that included lots of teasing of Eponine about a topic of interest for her.

“You like Cosette?” Grantaire asked.

“What? No. I just want to learn about her,” Eponine explained.

“Right. Because you like her,” Grantaire teased.

“Shut up.” Eponine threw a gummy bear at him. He snatched it out of the air and popped it in his mouth.

“Don’t waste those,” Jehan warned. They grabbed the bag out of Eponine’s hands and dumped it into the bowl. “But we all know you’ve got a little crush.”

“You too? I do not like Cosette. So shut up.” Eponine pulled her buzzing phone out of her pocket. “Shit, guys, I have to go get Gavroche.”

“He’s home,” Grantaire said.

“No. He’s at a friends. I’ve gotta go.” Eponine pulled her keys out of her bag and started heading towards the door.

“You sure you’re not just sneaking off to see Cosette?” Jehan teased. Eponine flipped them the middle finger as she struggled to get her shoes on.

“Bro, you can’t just leave us.” Grantaire couldn’t imagine doing all this work without her.

“I’ll be back before the party, this should be quick.” With that Eponine was gone.

“How dare she,” Jehan said, but they were already back to organizing the snack table. With or without Eponine, this start of the year party needed to be perfect.

 

Mary was Sonya’s house for the third time that week when she asked the question she wanted to.

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” She asked. She didn’t let Sonya responde before she started to explain herself. “I need to make dinner for my dad anyways, and it isn't that hard to have an extra serving and all we do is hang out here, I want to return the favor.”

Sonya smiled. “Of course I’ll come over,” She said.

There was no reason for Mary to be nervous, both she and Sonya knew that, but she was anyway. She felt like she was having her boyfriend meet her parents for the first time. Or at least this was what she imagined that felt like, Mary had never had a boyfriend. She had never brought a friend over either, for that matter. Maybe this was just a normal thing, to be nervous before your friend meets your crazy dad for the first time. She was sure this was just a normal thing.

 

“Wendla!” Ernst was yelling across the lunch room. The call made her turn her head to him. He weaved himself through the lunch room tables to the place where his friends ate. He sat down in the chair next to Wendla. Anna looked like she wanted to sit there, but didn’t say anything about it due to the look of panic on Ernst’s face. “Melchior Gabor is the worst.”

“Why do you all think this?” Wendla asked. She faced the whole group.

“Because it’s true,” Thea said.

“Today in math he was saying really gross things about you,” Ernst said.

“About me? Like what?” Wendla didn’t want to look like she was happy he was talking about her, especially if he wasn’t being kind about it, but it did excite her in a way.

“He said you were hot and he’d ‘totally tap that,’” Ernst told her.

Wendla was silent for a second. Surely Melchior didn’t mean it in a harmful way when he said that. It might had meant to be a compliment. Every single one of her friends didn’t want Wendla to even be in the same room as Melchior, so why would Ernst give her an honest report of what happened?

“I think he meant to be nice,” Wendla said.

“What? No, boys never mean to be nice,” Thea told her. “And Melchior hasn’t been nice once in his life.”

“You don’t know that,” Wendla told her.

It was by chance that at that moment her eyes fell on Melchior sitting at his table with the rest of his friends, but it gave her an idea.

“What would you do if I asked him out right now?” Wendla asked.

“Don’t.” All the people at the table save Wendla said this. It was a chorus that she hated to hear. It made her more passionate. She got up from her seat and walked across the lunchroom. Ernst reached out to stop her, Thea put her head in her hands, Anna sighed, and Martha didn’t react at all. The four of them looked at each other and at Wendla as the moment dragged on. They saw Wendla talk to Melchior, but they couldn’t hear a word she was saying. He looked shocked, then Otto and Georg started hitting each other's arms and yelling after she had turned away. Thea was already out of her seat before Wendla had reached their table.

“What happened?” Thea asked.

“I asked him out,” Wendla said. “And he said yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't great but we're chillin.  
> If you want to follow my tumblr (and you know you do) It's not-n-artist.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courfeyrac and Marius attend a party, Moritz and Ilse get closer, Cosette and Eponine reconnect, and Mary hosts a not so perfect dinner for Sonya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for some slight dub-con

If Courfeyrac was meaner he would have said ‘I told you so’ to Marius at the end of the night. But he wasn’t mean and he loved Marius, so he didn’t. Even when he picked him up from his grandfather’s house and he was shaking and stuttering and couldn’t look Courfeyrac in the eye. It wasn’t different from normal, but it was more intense than normal.

Courf put the car in park outside of Cosette’s house, and then he texted her to tell her he was there.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked Marius, who was sitting in the passenger seat. He stared out the windshield and nodded. “You just scared cuz you have to see Cosette?” It was a joke, but that wasn’t what Marius needed at the time.

“No,” He said. He turned his head to look out the window and watch Cosette run down the steps of her house to Courf’s car. She pulled open the door to the back seat and gave a big hello.

“Hey,” Courf responded.

Marius smiled at her knees and waved at her face. Courfeyrac took off at scary speeds, he was one of the people you don’t trust to be on the road. Marius often wondered who he had to bribe in order to get a license, but he never said anything. 

Courf pumped the music all the way to Jehan’s house. The group piled out of the car and walked into the party. Things had already gotten started, but the host was sober and the house was somewhat clean so there was a long night ahead of the attendees. By the look on Marius’ face Courfeyrac knew it might be the longest night of his life. Cosette was yelling Eponine’s name and running towards her to hug her. Courf didn’t understand how two people could get close so fast, but he wished he could do the same thing. 

Marius stayed close behind Courf’s back as he said his hellos to everyone there. He thought that his friend might eventually break off from him or try to talk to his crush, the only reason he was there, but he refused to interrupt Cosette and Eponine or to leave Courf’s side.

“Sit down.” Courf had lead him to a couch. It was occupied by some people he didn’t know, and he thought they might keep Marius occupied when he left for a few seconds. He ran off the the kitchen and gave Jehan five dollars. Then he grabbed a beer from the fridge and came back to the couch. Marius was sitting in the exact same position and the other people had made no move to engage him in conversation.

“You need this.” He held out the beer to him. It was an innocent enough offer, paying for someone’s supply at a party wasn’t something Marius should get used to, but it still tipped him up.

“No.” His response was panicked. Courf watched as his head dropped and his hands twisted around each other. His shaking hadn’t gone away the whole night, but whatever Courf had done had made it worse.

“You okay?” Courfeyrac asked as his slid down next to his friend. He put his hand on his knee and tried to look into his hidden eyes.

Marius bolted upright. He looked directly at Courfeyrac, and then left without a word. He ran into people on the way out and tripped over the shoes near the door. 

“Marius!” Courf yelled.

He didn’t hear him. Courf found Cosette on the porch with Eponine.

“I need to find him, but I will be back.” Courf must have been as panicked as Marius at this point. He headed out the door in search of where his friend had gone.

 

Moritz’ mom dropped him off at the party at six, right when Ilse told him it would start. He got out of the car and kissed his mom on the cheek. When she drove away he didn’t go inside. He texted Ilse. She wasn’t there yet, but she told him to go inside and make some friends. He stood outside for the next half hour until Ilse strutted up in knee high boots and a floral romper. It was a warm fall evening, and Ilse looked great.

They had texted often since they had re-met earlier that week, but that didn’t signify to Moritz that their meeting up would always start with a hug. Ilse hugged him and then looped her arms around his neck.

“Let’s go,” She said. And then the two of them headed inside.

Somehow Ilse knew the senior throwing the party, and the two of them hugged in the living room. Moritz smiled and shook the hosts hand. Ilse took Moritz to the back porch. They talked and smiled, she much more than he. She was so perfect. She hadn’t aged out of her child like wonderment, and she never lost her happiness. It was just that now she swore and drank beer and didn’t seem as scared to hug people.

“Do you want to be here?” She asked Moritz. “Do you do stuff like this?”

Moritz did not do stuff like this. He had few friends and no connections to normal teenage life.

“No,” He said. “But I’ve wanted to.”

Ilse stared at him. Her eyes were soft and deadly. They were both about three drinks into the night. Moritz stayed by her side even when she was talking to people like he wasn’t there. It was his fault he didn’t know anyone else at the party. Even though she had friends, Ilse never got mad at him, or told him to back off, or left him behind when he wasn’t following the conversation. She was so perfect.

“Have you ever hit a bong?”

That question led Moritz to the rest of the night. The later it got the closer Ilse felt on his side. The later it got the heavier and happier his head felt. The later it got the less people Ilse talked to, until she was so fixated on Moritz that he couldn’t go a minute without talking to her. That wasn’t a problem for him at all.   
The two of them were on the porch. The whole house smelled like pot, but on the porch it was clean. It smelled like the last wisps of summer. Swarms of gnats were ignited in the lights. Two old friends leaned against the rail with eachothers hands in their own and they hadn’t even noticed. The night was too full of life to let senses show people what was going on.

Ilse turned her head to her friend. He turned to face her. Then she leaned forward and placed a little peck on his lips. He flinched a little. His eyes didn’t close when hers did, he was shaken. Ilse took in all of this, then twisted her head away. Her whole body drooped. Then she looked back at Moritz.

“I’m sorry,” He said.

“No, it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that, that was my first kiss.”

Ilse stared at him. He was so mature, and she thought him to be attractive as well. She couldn’t believe it. She squeezed his hand tighter.

“Would you like another one?”

The two of them kissed softly for a while. Ilse knew what she was doing, Moritz was lost in every way. It got deeper and Moritz got stiffer. Ilse broke away.

“Want to find a room?” She asked. Moritz nodded slowly. Then she took his hand and lead him away from the porch.

 

Dinner was made and the table was set and Sonya had not yet arrived. She was a few minutes late, but that didn’t freak Mary out that much. She was sure she had a perfectly valid excuse. Her father was upstairs and the table was set. Mary flitted around her house lighting candles and organizing messes. She needed it to be perfect for Sonya. She needed her house to be clean and the dinner to be perfect and her father to be kind and quiet. Why couldn’t he just be kind and quiet? Mary scolded herself. She shouldn't think like that. Her father was ill, he was a silly old man and he couldn’t help himself. She could excuse his behavior. 

But that didn’t mean she liked it. He was so rude and loud and earlier that day he had told Mary that he would not wear anything nice to see her friend. She had told Sonya stories about her father, but she only hoped that she could be okay with him in person.

Someone rang the doorbell.

Sonya.

 

Cosette looked perfect on the outside. She dressed like a church girl and spoke like a southern belle, but sitting next to Eponine on the couch in Jehan’s house turned her into a mess. But that might have been because of the three beers she had downed since she had showed up. 

“You’re so different from when we were kids,” Cosette said.

“I could say the same for you,” Eponine replied.

Cosette laughed loud. Her head went up and her hands went out. It wasn’t the movements Eponine expected from a person who had once been such a soft spoked boy. Girl. 

Eponine didn’t know if she was allowed to talk about what Cosette was like before. She didn’t even know why she wanted to talk to her. Or why she clung to her at this party. She didn’t mind, she just wanted to know. She had been so awful to her when they were kids when her parents were around. And when they weren’t they were hardly friends. It was all new territory for Eponine. But thankfully, Cosette wasn’t shy to steer away from it.

“How are your parents?” Cosette asked. The sound Eponine made was almost a scoff, but it wasn’t quite confident enough to be considered one.

“I’m sorry.” Cosette thought the Thenardier’s had been awful to her, but Eponine never found an escape from them. “What about Gavroche? How is he?”

Eponine could hardly believe that Cosette remembered Gavroche. It was so long ago and he was so often out of the picture.

“He’s great. I mean, he’s crazy and chaotic, but I love him. I spend all my time with him.”

“Why?” Cosette asked.

“Who else would take care of him?”

Of course. Cosette had been there to clean rooms and keep the baby quiet. She shouldn’t expect his parents to do anything for him.

“Where did you go after my house?” Eponine asked.

“My papa adopted me.” Eponine knew that a rich man had taken Cosette away. Her parents always acted like it was a crime for him to do that.

“He’s the best. He’s been the best.” Cosette stared out. She was thinking specifically. And she was perfectly quiet. When she looked back at Eponine her eyes were full of tears. It came as no surprise to her that Cosette was an emotional drunk. “Did you know that your mom knew?”

“Knew what?”

“About me.” Cosette stopped. “About me being trans.”

Eponine understood the tears now. They hadn’t managed to fall, but she would understand when they did. Her mother was not the sort of woman to support a girl like Cosette.

“She saw me. In one of your dresses. I thought she was mad because I was touching your stuff, but that wasn’t it.” Cosette looked worse with every word she was saying. Eponine wondered in the back of her mind what dress it was, if she ever wore it after Cosette did. But that didn’t matter, Cosette was pulling herself back together. “She told me it was gross. That I could never let anyone know. Especially not your dad.”

“That was probably for the best,” Eponine said. One person in the world worse than her mother was her father.

“It took me so long to come out to Papa after that,” Cosette was crying silently. She wasn’t stumbling through her words and her voice wasn’t cracking. She simply had tears pouring out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t your fault at all.”

“No, no. I get it. My mom sucks.”

Cosette laughed.

“After you left it became my job to look after Gavroche. He’s my best friend.”

“Is he good?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s great.” Eponine couldn’t elaborate. Gavroche was her best friend, but he was very far from great. Cosette had just spilled her guts to her, but she couldn’t return the favor. Maybe one day.

Maybe one day.

 

It was too late to follow Marius, Courf had already lost sight of him, so he had to call him.

He didn’t answer.

Marius was an enigma to Courfeyrac. He was a nervous wreck with weird habits and he never did anything without being prompted to. It was out of character for him to leave so suddenly. He couldn’t do anything that might mildly inconvenience Courfeyrac without apologizing immensely beforehand. He wouldn't bolt on him unless something really bad had happened.

He texted him, since calling wasn’t working after the third time he tried it. Where are you? He asked. He was already moving out before he got a response.  
It was by chance that he bumped into him. He was only a block away, but the chance of Courf going in the exact direction were slim. He didn’t think about that when he found Marius, he was only glad it had happened. He was too worried to think about that.

“Marius!” Courf yelled. Marius looked frantic when he looked up, his eyes were wide and his arms were wrapped around his body. “Marius,” Courf said again, much quieter that time. He crouched down next to his friend. Marius looked nervous, but that wasn’t all. “Are you alright?”

Marius said nothing in response.

“What happened?” Courf asked.

“I’m sorry,” Marius finally managed to say.

“No, don’t be. Are you okay?”

Marius looked at the ground. He brought his hands to his mouth and started biting. He didn’t look Courfeyrac in the eye.

Courf sat down next to him. The cement was cold and Marius was not dressed warmly. Courf put a hand on his friends knee, Marius instantly tensed up, so he dropped his hand.

“Do you want to go home?” Courfeyrac asked.

Marius nodded very slowly.

The two of them walked slowly to the car. Courf told the story of the time he and Jehan cut class and ran into a teacher who had called in fake sick that day. He made it as funny as he could, but he didn’t manage to get Marius to laugh. He did loosen up a little bit, though, and that was an achievement for Courfeyrac.

The drive to Marius’ house was quiet. When he stopped the car outside of his home Marius didn’t get out of the car.

“What happened?” Courf asked.

Marius stayed quiet, just like he always was.

“I don’t know,” He said. And then he got out of the car. “Thanks for bringing me. I’m sorry I wasn’t any fun.”

“No, Marius, it isn’t like that.” But Marius had already closed the door and was walking his way to his front door. Courf stayed to see him get inside safely. Then he stayed to think.

There was something wrong with Marius. He was anxious or autistic of had PTSD or something. He was a complete mess, and Courf was the last person who was able to deal with it, but he was the only one who cared enough to try. His grandfather hated him, and as accepting as the ABC pretended they were, no one there like Marius either. Especially not Enjolras. He was stuck with him. And he loved him, but he couldn’t always be the one with Marius. That wasn’t his job.

 

The room that Ilse had found for her and Moritz belong to someone with eccentric tastees. He guessed it was the hosts room, given the reflection in the walls color scheme to the hosts strange and colorful fashion choices.

These were the sort of things Moritz was thinking about when he followed Ilse into the room. He didn’t want to think about what was going to happen. He wasn’t thinking about what was happening until Ilse was trying to take his jacket off. 

Her lips were on his and her arms were pulling at the sleeves of the black denim coat he had on. He was underneath her on the bright and itchy quilt laid out on the bed. He tried to relax, he tried to kiss her back. That was what he was supposed to be doing, right? But she dominated him. He didn’t really want to be there, he didn’t want his childhood friend to be on top of him, kissing him, and he couldn’t imagine doing what was supposed to happen next. She slipped the jacket about half way down his arms, exposing his scarred skin below the sleeves of his t-shirt. That must have deterred her, because then she moved away from the top half of him, and onto the bottom half.

Moritz gasped and shuddered.

Then Ilse stopped.

Moritz let out a tiny sigh. A sigh that Ilse identified as relief.

She sat on top of him. She was still but he was shaking.

She slowly moved off him until they were sitting next to each other, completely silent in the bright room.

“I’m sorry,” Moritz said.

Ilse paused. “It’s fine,” She said quietly.

They were quiet for a moment longer.

“I like you, I swear,” Moritz said.

“I believe you.” They didn’t dare say anything. Moritz out of embarrassment and Ilse out of anger. “Men are always like this. They act like they like me but the moment I want to do something they back off.”

“I’m sorry, I like you.” Ilse didn’t look like she believe him. “I’m just not ready.”

Ilse started at him. It was the first time she had really looked at him since they arrived in Jehan’s room.

“Did you have fun tonight? Other than this?” Ilse asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to do this again?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to do more stuff?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, like going out with me.”

“Romantically?” Moritz asked.

“Yeah. Would you like that?”

Moritz couldn't believe someone like Ilse wanted to go out with him. He hadn’t kissed anyone before that night and now someone wanted to date him.

“Yes,” He said.

 

Sonya looked great. It was the first thing Mary noticed when she opened the door to her new friend. They hugged in the door frame, and then Mary lead her to the dining room.

At the beginning of the meal the table was set for three, but only two people sat there.

“Where is your dad?” Sonya asked a few minute into the meal.

“He’s upstairs,” Mary said back to her. “He might come down. He doesn’t really like new people.”

That wasn’t true. He loved meeting new people and showing off his wealth and good looks, or what he thought were good looks, but he had no desire to meet a girl her hardly knew that Mary had nothing outstanding to say about. Mary felt guilty, of course, she always did when she fibbed to her father. She had endless wonderful things to say about Sonya, but she didn’t share a single one with him. Truth be told, she didn’t want her father in the house at all when Sonya first came over. But she cursed herself for acting that way, it was wrong. It was perhaps also necessary.

Sonya had high praise for the food Mary had made her, that made Mary blush. They ate and talked and laughed. They must have laughed to loud, because soon Old Mister Bolkonsky made his way down the stairs and into the dining room where his daughter and her friend sat. Mary saw him first. He was in nothing but a pair of boxers.

“Papa!” Mary cried.

Sonya turned around and nearly choked on the piece of salad in her mouth.

“Ah, so this in Sonya. You spoke too poorly of such a good looking girl.” Bolkonsky said.

“Papa, shouldn’t you have some clothes on?” Mary asked. She had assumed he might have the decency to at least cover his wrinkled and hairy chest with a shirt, but she was mistaken. She couldn’t ask anything of him.

“Oh. Of course I should. But you made her sound so homely. I didn’t think I had anyone to impress.”

Sonya kept her eyes away from Bolkonsky and set on Mary. Her jaw was tight and her face was growing red.

“Papa, you need to be wearing clothes if you want to join us for dinner.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll be back in just a moment.” Bolkonsky took a step closer to Sonya and placed his old, smelly hand on her shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere,” He told her. Then he wondered upstairs, his feet banging loudly on each stair he stepped on.

Mary looked at Sonya. 

“I need to leave,” Sonya announced suddenly.

“I am so sorry, I thought he would at least wear clothes,” Mary said. She took Sonya’s coat from the hanger and handed it to her.

“That’s not my problem with him.”

Mary stopped helping Sonya leave. “Then what is your problem?”

Sonya stared at Mary in disbelief. “Are you kidding? Didn’t you hear the things he said about me?”

“What, that? He can’t help it, Sonya. He’s very sick.”

Sonya had one foot in her shoe and the other in only a sock.

“That isn’t an excuse. I didn’t feel safe around him.”

“Sonya, don’t leave. It’s not his fault. He’ll stop if I tell him to,” Mary explained.

“Will he?”

Mary froze. He might not. Why was Sonya so upset about this? Her father said those same things about her all the time and it never fazed her.

“I’m sorry, Mary, I have to go.” Sonya finished putting her shoes on and opened the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Mary nodded. 

Sonya left.

This wasn’t fair. Her father was just being himself. Himself was awful, it was true, but Mary had told Sonya what he was like before she came over. She went upstairs, and ran into Bolkonsky on her way up.

“Where are you going?” Bolkonsky asked, his voice was hot. “Are you leaving your guest down there?”

“She left,” Mary said. She didn’t dare look him in the eye, she couldn’t do that to herself. She couldn’t do that to Sonya.

“That’s too bad. If some man doesn’t pick her up soon then I just might have to myself.”

Mary shuddered. 

But she said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! This is a long one. But I updated and that's what matters. Please enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is a big project and who know how long it will go until I give up on it, but I'm glad if anyone wants to join me for the ride. I would love feedback as this is my first fic ever.


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